The War of Winchester
by sarahkateneverland
Summary: The Winchesters never suspected that Bobby Singer had a long lost a daughter. Isla James showed up in their lives without a prior whisper of her existence. She needed the help of the Winchesters to prevent a war of worlds and she needed them to trust her. But most importantly, she needed them to never know about where she had been for the last 12 years…
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

A young girl sprinted down an alley panting hard, ferociously glancing over her shoulder. The man that had been chasing her was no longer in eye sight. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest as she slowed her pace slightly, unsure if she had completely lost the one who followed. Beads of sweat were forming on her brow and her breathing was uneven as she slowed to a brisk walk. Moving towards the back door of a bar. A bar full of lots of people, lots of witnesses.

She glanced over her shoulder once last time, taking a deep breath. No one was there. She sighed unsure of what to do next. She rounded herself back toward the door and collided with a hard, cold body.

Razor sharp teeth smiled in her direction with a black gleam in his eye.

"Now, sweets," the creature said grabbing her arms violently, "All your running made me work up an appetite. What good is that to you?"

Isla James glanced up at the vamp letting her platinum blonde hair fall in her face, hiding her violet blue eyes. A smile played across her lips as she lifted her head shaking her long hair out of her face. "I personally don't like an audience. Thanks for the relocation. I prefer privacy."

Before the vampire could process what she had said, she headbutted him hard forcing him to take a step back. He snarled at her, spitting out blood and lunged as she pulled out a long blade from her olive-green bomber jacket.

She dodged his first run and spun around landing a kick in his chest. His strength and force kept him upright and he brought his forearm across her face, splitting her lip open. She seethed and brought the machete up slicing through his neck. The body collapsed into a pile of trash cans causing a racket.

The noise masked the sound of the other two vampires that were walking up behind Isla. She turned around just in time to be grabbed by one while the other ripped her knife out of her hand and tossed it down the ally towards the now open door at the back of the bar.

Dean and Sam Winchester stood blocking the light from the bar as they watched the girl struggle against the two vampires. Both men had their instincts flaring to help the damsel in distress. It was Sam who noticed first, that she was doing just fine on her own as she ripped away from the grungy vampire holding onto her and decapitated him with a broken piece of steal that had been lying near the trashcans.

Dean rose from picking up the knife that had slid to his feet just in time for the girl, splattered with blood and gore, to rip it out of his hand.

"Thanks, but I need that," she said as she sent it flying right at the last vamp pinning him to the dumpster he was standing by. She grabbed the same steel piece and sent it through his neck, dropping the third and final body of the night.

She huffed, proud of herself and turned to the two baffled males staring at her wide-eyed and impressed. "Sam and Dean Winchester, right?"

She smiled, and Sam was the first to speak.

"Uh yeah," he said his deep voice faltering for only a second, "I take it you're another hunter?"

"Isla James," she extended her hand to Sam and then Dean who cleared his throat.

"That was," he paused still looking for words, "that was something."

"I will choose to take that as a compliment," Isla said gazing into Dean's green eyes.

"How does someone as tiny as you do so much damage?"

Isla glowered at him. Dean stuttered over his words realizing he had insulted the young hunter.

"Look I don't mean to be rude but you're like what a buck ten sopping wet? And you took those vamps out like… well… flawless. I've known some stellar female hunters. But none… none that could do that."

Sam laughed and tried to save his brother from the wrath that was clearly building in the small girl that had fire shining in her eyes. "I think what he is trying to say is that was badass. We don't see solo hunters very often anymore. I think they try to steer clear of the Winchester curse."

"Actually, I was looking for you guys," Isla said as she wiped off blood from her face.

"Looking for us," Dean said, gruffly, "what for?"

She could tell his alert was up and she didn't blame him. She had issues with trusting others too, especially other hunters. She knew the life. She was raised in it. But hunters were some of the most closeminded people out there and she was never quite sure which ones were hunting for the wrong reasons.

"That is actually a long story. Let's get cleaned up and grab a drink and I can explain it." She made sure to roll up her sleeves, so Dean and Sam could see her tattoo knowing that she wasn't possessed. But she fully expected the full interrogation at the motel to make sure she was as she said she was.

Isla, Sam, and Dean sat in a small booth in a little town in Colorado. Isla had changed out of her blood-soaked clothes but kept the olive-green bomber jacket on. Fitted in a loose black t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of black work boots she felt comfortable as she and the guys sipped on beers and snacked on onion rings.

"So, you just happened to be looking for us when you ran into a gang of vamps," Sam asked, "That seems a little coincidental."

"Not really. I was tracking the vamps and they lead me to you. Which means that for some reason they were tracking you."

"We took out a nest a town over. These ones must have heard and came looking for revenge," Dean shrugged it off.

They had already gotten past the pleasantries of who they were and where they came from. Sam was warmer towards Isla, though still on guard. He seemed willing to accept the fact that she was who she said she was. There was something about her that put him at ease.

Dean was having more of an issue blindly accepting that some random girl from South Carolina happened to be a skilled and prestigious hunter. Especially, since he had never heard of her. While there were a lot of hunters that hunted solo, it wasn't a common practice. Almost all of them had hunted with someone at some point and those that hadn't had at least had several encounters with other hunters. Enough for them to have a familiar name. Dean was sure that he had never heard the name Isla James before, nor had anyone talked about a dynamite blonde haired violet eyed hunter. From what he witnessed in the ally, her skills were well honed, and this was not her first time around the block. Her name being unfamiliar was sounding alarms in his head.

"How do you know us?" He asked, not wanting to show his hand just yet.

"Are you kidding," she laughed, "Who hasn't heard of the Winchesters. You guys are freaking famous."

"Hmm," Dean responded taking a long sip from his beer.

"Also, I have totally read your guys books. Did you really bang an angel?" She asked Dean as he spit out his beer and Sam laughed.

"She was a fallen angel, first. Second, we really need to burn all those books."

Deans voice was rough and agitated, but a small weight was lifted when she poked at him, teasing him. It reminded him of someone he knew but he wasn't sure who. Her tone made her seem like one of the guys. Someone that he could share war stories with.

"What did you need our help with," Sam asked.

"I got in a tight spot with a witch back in Portland and she took a family heirloom from me that I really need back. I had always heard that it had magic in it, but I thought it was just a myth. I want it back for mostly sentimental reasons. But it must have some purpose if she was willing to slaughter half a small town to get it. I don't know what it does but whatever it is can't be good."

"Why not gank the witch when you had the chance?" Dean moved forward reaching for the last onion ring. He gloated that Isla hadn't been able to kill the witch. Maybe she wasn't as strong as she lead them to believe.

"I thought I had. But somehow, she didn't stay dead. I am not sure exactly what happened. All I know is she was dead and the next night she had me bound, took the heirloom, and disappeared. I managed to break the spell a day and a half later, but she was long gone and none of my tracking has yielded any results. I figured if anyone could help me it would be you guys."

"Why should we care? Why should this be a priority for us," Dean huffed, and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Stop the act, Dean. If this witch is slaughtering entire towns it is the kind of thing we should try to stop," Sam turned to Isla, "What was the heirloom."

"Just a pendant. It was passed down through my family on my mother's side."

"Okay. We can help but it might take us a day or two to figure out how to track her down," Dean said.

Isla hesitated, but wanted the guys to trust her and knew there was one piece of information she needed to share with them before they went on this mission. It would be bad enough if they figured out where she had really been over the past several years. They had a right to know who she really was.

"There's one thing that you should know about me before we get going."

Dean and Sam looked at each other bracing themselves for impact.

"I'm Bobby Singers daughter."

Whatever the two had expected her to say. It wasn't that. Dean worked through his head all the fallacies of that statement. It was a well-known fact that Bobby didn't have any children. It had been Sam and Dean that had been there for him. They were his children. They were his only family, right down to the end. Who the hell was this girl?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Isla watched as the guys looked over her. She knew that they didn't believe her. She didn't blame them. She had only learned how important Bobby Singer was to the Winchesters recently. She, herself, only knew a little about him. Isla's mom was on a hunt in the Canadian Rockies when she had met Bobby. She was grieving the loss of her father while he was grieving the loss of his wife. The two took down a pair of Wendigos and used each other for comfort in a time of grief.

"What do you mean you are Bobby's daughter," Sam asked.

"Bobby didn't have kids," Dean growled. He was furious that any one would disrespect Bobby's memory like that.

"He didn't have any kids he knew about. My mom never told him about me. I think she thought the wounds were too fresh." Isla's mother was always very open about who Isla's father was. She told her on more than one occasion that when she was ready she could reach out to him. Isla had every intention of doing that until…

Isla's face fell as the last 12 years flashed through her mind. She forced the memories down not wanting to deal with the darkness that tried to consume her. She looked back up at the Winchesters. She knew that she would have to give them proof and she had it.

"Here," she said handing them a letter that had clearly been read a thousand times, "This is a letter from Bobby to my mom after they met. A letter that was written 7 months before my date of birth. A letter in his own handwriting that shows the connection between him and my mother."

Sam took the letter reading it and then handing it to Dean.

"This doesn't mean anything other than Bobby knew another hunter," he said, not entirely believing her but not sure that he didn't believe her either.

"Where's your angel? Shouldn't he be able to tell you I am who I say I am?"

"Cas is…preoccupied," Dean said, not hinting at where Cas really was.

"Look. My mom wasn't perfect. She made some mistakes. Clearly, I was one of them," she said trying to lighten the mood but neither of the guys budged.

There was a long pause where no one knew what to say. The silence blanketed the entire bar, drowning out the glass clinks and pool breaks. Isla felt disconnected, isolated. She felt as though she wasn't meant to be in this bar with the Winchesters. That she wasn't meant to be in the world. She felt hopeless. She needed the Winchesters help and she wanted to be truthful, as much as possible. But the truth put them on guard and she was sure that she was losing them fast. She reached out towards Sam, knowing that if anyone could understand the sense of isolation, the lack of belonging, it would be him.

"Look, you guys don't have to believe me. I mean, I never even knew Bobby. I just know he was a hunter that met my mom along the way. Maybe in a perfect world I could have met him. Maybe it's better that we didn't meet. All I know is, that I need your help. I don't have family to turn too. I don't have any friends that can hunt. You did your tests. You know I'm not a demon or an angel or a monster. Even if you don't see me as Bobby Singer's daughter, can't you at least see me as a girl that needs the help of two veteran hunters."

Sam investigated her eyes and she gave him a bashful smile. Wrinkle lines creased in the corner of her eyes. The same way that Bobby's used to when he would smile after telling Dean and Sam off.

"She's telling the truth, Dean," he said.

Dean took a long look at Isla. She wasn't sure what changed Sam's mind or what could change Deans. After what seemed like the longest minute ever Dean resigned.

"Alright. We'll help. But two conditions. The first being you do what we say. If we say run you run. If we say stay you stay. I'm not planning on babysitting some new hunter looking for glory."

Isla rolled her eyes at his new hunter comment but chose to bite her tongue. "Fine," she breathed, "What is the second rule?"

"Don't mess anything up in baby and don't ever touch the stereo," he said with deadly seriousness.

Sam and Isla both laughed. They left the bar together walking down the street to the motel that they had changed at earlier. It was easy for Isla to see that her and Sam had an instant connection and relation. They had a lot in common in terms of interests and he was more open to her presence. It was going to take Dean a little longer to warm up to her. She was confident that if Dean didn't find out about her past that she could win him over with time. Which they would have plenty of as they hunted the witch that stole her pendant.

The next day the trio went into research mode trying to learn everything they could about the witch that Isla had met. Isla had told them what she knew. That her name was Irena, though she was positive that that wasn't her coven name. She shared the interesting symbol that had been carved into a bracelet that hung on Irena's wrist. A branch with three leaves, but so far, the internet had come up with nothing.

Dean sat at a table piled with papers and books, sighing and slamming the book shut. Sam looked up from his laptop as Dean stood up. "I'm going to get something to eat. I'll be back later."

He was gone before either of them could respond.

"Is he always so friendly?" Isla pulled up a chair next to Sam, reading over his shoulder. He was on a site about different covens in North East America.

"Dean has never been one to process his grief. I think hearing Bobby's name, seeing his facial expressions in someone else…" Sam ran his hands through his hair.

"I'm the constant reminder he doesn't need," Isla said, softly. She felt horrible that she was stirring things up inside Dean. Every hunter had to get familiar with loss. Isla was all too familiar with loss, especially the loss of a parent. She felt tears begin to well in her eyes as she thought about the day she lost her own mother. She pushed back the tears and reminded herself of how strong her mother was. She used that strength to refocus her energy on hunting the witch that had taken the pendant from her, that had taken her family memories from her.

Sam and Isla continued to research for the next hour coming up with nothing. They had started to get a little stir crazy and Isla had begun pacing back and forth in the small hotel room.

"So, how long have you been hunting," Sam asked, leaning back in his chair. He needed to give his eyes a break from the glow of the computer screen.

"I don't really know. My mom never really hid it from me. But when she remarried we were able to get out of the life for a while. I know," she said, seeing Sam's surprised reaction, "It doesn't happen very often."

"So, what made you come back to it?"

"I lost my mom a while back. I went out on my own for a while. Spiraled with grief a while after that. Then about a year ago I reminded myself why I did this, why my mom had done this. After the revelation, it was almost like the stories and weird events started finding me."

"I can understand that." Sam got up stretching and moved around the desk to stretch his legs. "Sometimes I feel like even if I was hiding under a rock the weird would still find me."

"We are weird magnets," Isla laughed.

The two were casually chatting discussing childhood memories, the few good ones each remembered when Dean walked back in.

"Well, aren't we in chipper moods," he commented, staring at the closeness between Sam and Isla. "Find anything on the witch yet?"

"Not yet. This symbol is our best lead and I can't find it on anything." Isla moved over to the laptop and Sam joined her at the table getting ready to do some more research. There was a sudden ruffle of papers as Cas appeared in the room.

"Dean, I got your call. I ca—" He stopped dead in his sentence, staring at Isla.

"This is—" Sam started, but Cas interrupted him.

"Bobby Singer's daughter," he said, matter-of-factly.

"Your mojo can tell who she's related too just by being in the room," Dean asked.

"No," But she has his laugh lines and holds her body the same way he did whenever I entered the room. "The similarities are likely not noticeable to the human eye, but they are quite clear to an angel."

"My name is Isla." Isla wasn't sure how she felt about an angel being able to identify her heritage with such ease. She had heard stories of Cas. She knew what he meant to the Winchesters. She had never met an angel before and she wasn't so sure she was ready to meet one now.

"She has a bit of a witch problem she would like help with," Sam stated, filling Cas in on the details quickly.

"I'm surprised that it took you this long to seek one another out," Cas said, ignoring what Sam had told him.

All three hunters just stared at him. Cas quickly interjected, "There is something about the connection between the Singer/Winchester bloodlines. It goes deeper than just friendship and that connection from Bobby and John to you guys and Bobby," he glanced quickly at Dean and Sam, "has created an unbreakable bond that is likely to draw you to one another. It is one of the unique and rare occurrences of real human compassion."

"Maybe I just didn't want to deal with the sass that comes out of Dean's mouth every two seconds," Isla said before she could stop herself.

"Sass that comes out of my mouth," Dean rounded on her, "every word out of your mouth is dropping with sarcasm."

"Well, duh. How else are you supposed to get through this lifestyle? My sense of humor is all I have left." Isla used a sarcastic tone, but there was an underlying darkness with her words.

"Sarcasm is an art form. You completely butcher it." Dean took a seat, grabbing his beer off the table. "You think you're a little spitfire, but you haven't proved anything to me yet. A couple vamps is nothing in the large scheme of things. You couldn't even take out a witch," He leaned back in his chair, grinning at himself for grinding on her nerves.

She reacted off instinct and rage and chucked a pillow off the bed at him. He laughed hard at her as he caught the pillow. Clearly, this girl was not a threat. It was a split second before he went crashing to the ground the chair legs slipping out from under him and sprawling him across the floor. Isla grinned a wicked grin. She had known that just a tiny amount of force would toss him over and he had misunderstood her reasoning for tossing the pillow. It was just enough to keep him off guard.

Sam started laughing and Cas just looked at Dean sprawled on the floor with a look on annoyance that he was interrupted in his journey for this.

Dean managed to untangle himself and whipped the pillow back at Isla, but she easily dodged it and plopped onto the bed next to her.

"I didn't come here for pillow fights. Your message said that you needed help tracking someone," Cas drawled, clearly unamused.

"A witch." Sam shuffled through the papers looking for the symbol that Isla had drawn for him earlier. He handed the picture to Cas. "This symbol was around her wrist. We aren't sure if it means anything or—"

Before Sam finished his sentence, Cas had disappeared.

"Whoa," Isla gawked, "that's creepy."

"You kinda get used to it," Sam said as Dean untangled himself from the floor.

"You kinda get used to being shot at too," she mumbled, "doesn't mean it's a good thing."

Dean didn't say anything as he grabbed another beer from the fridge and brought it towards his lips. Another pillow smacked him in the face before he took a sip. He kept the beer held an inch away from his lips and slowly turned to Isla.

"If you spill a man's fresh beer that's assault and is punishable," he glowered at her.

"You need to loosen up." Isla rolled her eyes at him.

Sam could already tell that however long this case took to solve Dean and Isla were going to both be working to push each other's buttons and get underneath each other's skin. Isla laid back on the bed crossing her arms over her chest. She was wondering what information Cas would come back with and how long it would take him when she drifted into sleep.

Isla woke up hours later. She was still lying in bed, but someone had covered her up with a blanket. It was dark. She could see a large sleeping figure in the bed next to her, that she was sure was Sam. The glow of the clock on the stand by the door showed that Dean was passed out on the couch, boots still laced on. The clock flashed 3:28 AM. Isla felt wide awake and knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. She felt a prickle on the back of her neck and the hair on her arms rose.

She stood up feeling the chill of the evening ripple through her. She pulled her boots on and grabbed her bomber jacket from the table and walked outside to get some fresh air. The motel was out of the way from town and she could see the stars glittering in the darkness. She was entranced by the sparkle of the night sky when she noticed a shadow move to her right. She poised herself, keeping her sense alert. She slowly walked to the corner of the motel and peered around the edge.

There was nothing there, just darkness and an empty field. She turned back around and a tall figure stood there causing her to jump back in fright.

"Dean," she lightly punched him in the shoulder, "you scared me."

"What are you doing outside in the cold at night," he asked, though his voice wasn't as accusatory as she had expected it to be.

"Couldn't sleep," she shrugged, "came out for some fresh air."

"I saw you tossing and turning before you came out. Nightmares?"

"I guess," she honestly wasn't sure, "I don't ever remember when I wake up. I just don't really sleep through the night and I have a bad feeling when I wake up."

Dean stayed silent. He understood completely what she was talking about. When he first returned from hell he had the same feeling. Some of his nightmares he could remember. The torture. The disgust. But there were nights where he would wake up feeling restless and full of dread. He never did figure out what those nightmares consisted of. All he knew was that they stopped only after he had quit hunting and spent that year with Lisa. They never returned when he returned back to hunting.

The two stood outside for a couple more minutes sharing a comfortable silence. She knew he had been through hell and back. He could feel from her that she had been through more than her fair share. It didn't change anything between them, but it did force a mutual and unstated understanding between the two of them.

They both went to head back to the motel room at the same time when they were jumped by a hoard of demons. Isla was attacked first as a dark-haired demon jumped on her back pushing her to the ground. Before Dean could help her, he had two unfamiliar demons attacking him.

"Winchester," he snarled, "Wasn't expecting you here. But it's a nice treat." Dean pulled out his dagger and drove it into the chest of the demon in front of him quickly shifting attention to the demon behind him.

Isla could see Dean handling the two demons as she tossed the girl on her back off and drove her own blade through her chest, watching the electricity fade from her body. She stood up and noticed another demon heading for Dean. She leaped over demon in front of her and jumped on the demon approaching Dean, just as Dean slaughtered the one in front of him. When he turned around he watched as Isla sliced the demons throat open and hopped off the demons back, a fury shining bright in her eyes.

Dean was impressed. But he wasn't about to waste time telling her. They both looked around to make sure there were no other demons in the area before quickly getting back inside the hotel room. Isla had barely shut the door when Dean started in on her.

"What the hell was that," he boomed, "those demons were here for you and where did you get a knife that can kill demons," he said remembering Ruby giving them that knife and not knowing of any other knife in existence.

"Please, you think that you are the only ones with a dagger of the Kurds," Isla rolled her eyes at the fact that Dean thought himself so superior to everyone else.

"What's going on," Sam had woken up and could feel the tension radiating from his brothers.

"Your little friend here forgot to mention that she had a hoard of demons after her," Dean was agitated beyond the point of reason at this point and Sam could tell he was boiling over, "Oh and she just so happens to have a demon-killing dagger."

"You guys are not the only hunters that are capable of taking out demons," Isla said angrily. "So, I've pissed off a few demons along the way. Who hasn't?"

"Everyone needs to calm down," Sam all but yelled as Dean stomped across the room.

"It's a little hard to calm down when I'm being attacked by demons because of some person I don't even know."

"Would it have made a difference if they were here to attack us instead of her," Sam asked Dean. Dean just leaned against the wall crossing his arms. "I mean come on Dean. Demons tracking and attacking hunters isn't exactly unheard of."

"Then ask her where she got the damn dagger."

"She is in the damn room and has a name and you can ask her yourself," Isla roared.

She was tired of his arrogance. Therefore, she didn't work with other hunters. They were always so judgmental. These were supposed to be her people. They were supposed to support other hunters. But all Dean had done was try to get a rise out of her. She was done.

"I don't need to explain myself. And I definitely don't need the help of some narcissistic hunter on a power trip."

Isla grabbed her bag before Sam could stop her and pushed herself out the motel door, keeping her hand on her blade as she walked across the parking lot. She kept a look out for any lurking demons, but she didn't see any. The sun was just beginning to lighten the horizon to a soft blue. She could hear Sam approaching behind her. She didn't turn. She just kept pushing forward.

"Isla," he said out of breath as he caught up to her.

"Go away Sam. I don't want the help of you or your brother."

"We want to help. Look, Dean, he just… you must get to know him before he lets up. He's been through a lot and he's always on guard." Sam stepped in front of her stopping her and looking into her violet eyes. "He doesn't mean it. He's just protective."

"Well, I am a hunter. You would think that the protection would extend a little. But apparently saving his life from a demon isn't what he wanted." Sam smirked at her.

"You saved him?"

"Not exactly," Isla shifted her bag to her other shoulder, "He probably could have handled it, but the demon was behind him when I jumped it."

"That's why he's mad. He probably feels like you showed him up." She knew it wasn't true. That Sam was just trying to make her smile, but it worked. The thought of Dean being shown up by a 5'3" girl was something that made her crack a smile.

"Look, I got the knife off a demon that I killed. The rumor is that it was given to him by Lucifer to remind other demons who was in charge. It was a demon that killed my mom. I have been searching for years to find out exactly who it was and still haven't come up with a name. It's natural that I have a few demons trailing me."

"It could have just as easily been us the demons were after," Sam reassured her, "Dean doesn't even know what he's mad about. He's just mad to be mad."

"It's been a long time since the demons have tracked me. I thought my trail had gone cold. I'm not really sure where they came from. I would have warned you guys had I known they were still on me." Isla was being honest. She hadn't had a demon encounter in months and the last one she had was an accidental run in. The demon hadn't even been looking for her when he stumbled upon her.

Before Sam could answer Dean hollered for him from the motel door. It looked like Cas had popped back in with some information. Sam looked at Isla using his brooding stare to encourage her back towards the motel room. They both slowly walked back together, Isla still undecided about whether she was going to let the guys help or take the information and run. Cas had dropped in just long enough to tell them he had found the symbol on a small shop in Montana before he disappeared again.

Isla thought long and hard about her next step as Dean and Sam packed things up to head to Montana. Even if she ran, they were likely to beat her there. They already knew what was happening and if she had learned anything about them over the years it was that they never gave up. Isla knew that she had them locked into this. It was her fault she couldn't finish the case solo. So, she climbed in the back of Impala as they made their long trip to Montana.


End file.
